London
by tamiria
Summary: Drabbles set in London after series 2. Maxxie/James, Anwar.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **A drabble I was planning to continue but didn't. Maybe I will someday.

Characters are Maxxie/James, and Anwar. So, yes, MM.

**London**

When Maxxie had told Anwar that they wouldn't have enough money for food, drink, or a decent place to stay, he hadn't been joking. London was the most expensive place to live in the whole country but it was where Maxxie had to be. Maxxie had already auditioned for three musicals. He hadn't had any replies but he had always been the optimistic one.

"Mate," Anwar said seriously, when James and Maxxie came in laden with plastic shopping bags. "We are _seriously_ in trouble."

Maxxie's bright smile slipped from his face. "Yeah. This is the last of the food money." Maxxie peered into the bags. "We brought bread. Lots and lots of bread."

"It's cheap," James said defensively.

Bread had clearly been James's idea. After all, Anwar knew Maxxie. Maxxie would have bought beer and odd snacks and blown all the money. Though, saying that, Anwar probably would have done the same thing if the tenant hadn't come around and hammered on their door to warn them about their first payment after their deposit. They had enough. Barely. If they didn't buy anything else.

"By the way," Maxxie said, as he put the bread in the fridge. "Your mother's been calling me again. She's left about thirteen messages in the last two hours."

Anwar opened his mouth to reply but James was already talking.

"Maxxie, why do you put bread in the fridge?" he wanted to know. "There is a bread box right there."

The bread was always in the fridge at Maxxie's house. Anwar had a bread box but that was only because his mother liked fresh loaves and went down the shop to get them every other day. Anwar had become used to it. Apparently it bewildered James because Anwar could have sworn the pair had already had this conversation.

He had been living with them too long, he thought. One month. It had been one month of avoiding his mother, working part time in a crappy clothes store, and one month of almost constant partying. Not much had changed. And it _was_ a laugh.

"You should probably call her," James said.

At first he and James hadn't talked much. Anwar had known James before but not well. Then he had become Maxxie's boyfriend and that had made Anwar wary. Jealous even. He had always come first in Maxxie's life – they were best friends! – and Maxxie had never had anything but flings before. He supposed he was worried that Maxxie would treat him like Anwar had when he was with Sketch. Fortunately, Maxxie had been the same. And Anwar and James – wary at first – had warmed to each other. At least, they had warmed enough that James felt confident enough to give input into Anwar's life.

"Are you joking?" Anwar said incredulously. "She'll have me spilling out address in two minutes. She'll come down here herself and drag me out by the ear!"

The sad thing was that Anwar wasn't exaggerating. He had listened to some of the voicemails and now he cringed just thinking about them. She would kill him when she found him and Anwar wanted to prolong this. He had always been shit at taking responsibility.

"She's not _that _bad Anwar," Maxxie teased, "She wouldn't drag you out by your ear. Your balls, maybe."

"How is that any better?" Anwar demanded.

Maxxie stuck his tongue out. Then his phone rang. He looked down at the caller ID and commented, "Hmm, unknown number. Well, maybe your mother is hoping to trick me into picking up after the last two times."

"You talked to her?" Anwar whined.

"I like your Mum." Maxxie shrugged with a small grin. "She's not mad at me. She thinks you are the one who dragged _me _off to London."

"Oh, crap," Anwar said. That was the last thing he needed. Another charge against him: corrupting that 'nice boy' Maxxie.

Maxxie accepted the call and put the phone to his ear, "Hello… Yes… Yes…" He walked across the room and into his and James's bedroom. "Really?! Wow…"

"It is her," Anwar said bitterly, sighing loudly after the pronouncement.

James looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

Maxxie burst back into the room, his face lit up with joy. "I got a call back!"

Anwar and James blinked and then erupted into immediate praise. Anwar, who was closest, pulled Maxxie into a brief hug, and then James pulled Maxxie into a much longer kiss.

"Alright, alright," Anwar said, when it didn't look like they were going to stop. "I'm still in the room!"

"Leave then," Maxxie said cheekily. Then he said, dazed, "I can't believe it. Only three auditions and I have a call back. I might not get it but…" His eyes glazed over at the thought of his dreams coming true.

Anwar felt a small amount of jealously. Maxxie had always known what he had wanted to do. He hadn't been filled with uncertainties like Anwar. But, really, looking at the joyous expression on Maxxie's face, Anwar couldn't be resentful. Maxxie deserved it.

Besides, screw the future. He was young. He still had time to have fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I was asked to continue. Can't promise there will be anymore than this, but here is another random drabble. I wanted someone to write the reaction of Anwar's mother (priceless) but no one seems to have done it. If anyone has then please point me in that direction. =)

Anyway, reviews are love. Please give love.

* * *

"…and I was so worried, Anwar, and you didn't even have the decency to call and tell me… I thought you had been kidnapped or murdered or something… wanted to call the police… luckily that girl friend of yours told me she'd seen you with Maxxie getting on a bus… rang Maxxie's parents… completely irresponsible… know you are upset… worried me so much I'm getting more greys… come home right now… London is a dangerous place, Anwar, with stabbing and terrorist attacks and drugs…"

Anwar sighed with boredom. He was lying on the bed with his head propped up on his arm and the phone was lying a few feet away. His mother had been ranting for what seemed like the last hour and he had eventually given up trying to respond.

Maxxie walked out from the bathroom with his towel slung low on his hips. His eyes were wide with disbelief. He glanced over at James, who had his iPod plugged in and his music going so loud that Anwar could hear it. This had all been an attempt to drown out Anwar's mother while Maxxie took his shower before they could leave.

"Yes," James said, pulling out his earphones and correctly interpreting Maxxie's face, "she is still going." He looked over at Anwar. "Is she ever going to stop?"

"I told you," Anwar replied. "Forty-six year old Pakistani woman… You try– "

"–saying no to her," Maxxie and James chorused.

"Well," Anwar said, "I did say no and look what happened."

He looked back at the phone.

"…horrible crime rates… rising every day… you're in such danger…"

"Does she think Bristol is the paradigm of all good then?" James asked with a snort.

"I don't know, man," Anwar replied, heaving another sigh.

"And drugs and crime," Maxxie repeated, smirking. "What did she think we were up to there?"

James laughed. He then asked, "Maxxie, come on, get ready. Auditions. I've got to go to work so if you want to get the train together."

Maxxie shuffled over to find his clothes, putting a hand on his sliding towel. As he passed James, the brown haired boy reached out and Anwar adverted his eyes to avoid seeing James copping a feel. Really, living here had destroyed any last vestiges of his innocence. His poor, poor mind was scarred irreparably…

"and then… hang on… Anwar… are you listening? Anwar!"

"Yes, Mum," Anwar said dutifully, picking up the phone. "I'm here."

"Well good! I thought you'd run off! Anyway, as I was saying, you better be on the next train back here or I'm coming to look for you! Maxxie's Dad told me the address and your father found it on that google map thing he's so fond of. Mark my words, Anwar…"

Anwar glared at Maxxie, who paled.

"Traitor!" he whispered.

Maxxie avoided his gaze guiltily. He protested, "My Mum wanted to come and say hello! I couldn't say no…"

Anwar narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry!" Maxxie squeaked.

Anwar had a feeling the squeak had less to do with a guilty conscience, and more to do with James's roving hands, so he increased the intensity of his glare. Back-stabber.

"So what do you say Anwar?" his mother asked him. "Hmm? Are you going to be sensible now?"

"Look, Mum, I'll come back at the end of the summer holidays. I could even go back to college…"

"End of the summer holidays! Do you hear yourself? End of the summer holidays! And what do I do until then? Grow a full head of grey worrying about you on your own in London! My baby boy!"

"Mum," Anwar groused, "I'm not your baby boy. Besides, I'm not alone. Maxxie and James are here!"

"Ah, yes, Maxxie," Anwar's mum said.

Anwar expected her to rant about Maxxie's bad influence. He was disappointed.

"And how is Maxxie then?" his mother said fondly. "Such a lovely boy. Has he been getting some good auditions? His mother was telling me all about his dancing. Now, I say to myself, why can't Anwar be more like Maxxie. He always respects his parents and he is so nice to his mother, unlike my son!"

"What?" Anwar practically screeched. "Maxxie is in London too, and you are OK about that?"

This was a mistake. His mother switched moods instantly back to raving and angry.

"Anwar! Do not take that tone with me! Maxxie is a good boy and asked the permission of his parents before he went off! I worry for him too, but Maxxie is a lot less troublesome than you, Anwar, and he has that boyfriend to take care of him!"

Oh, James was taking care of Maxxie all right, Anwar thought in mild disgust, but he didn't think that was what his mother was referring too.

"Besides, he is pursuing his dreams and not just… _bumming around_… like you! Now, is Maxxie there right now? Pass the phone to him."

"Maxxie," Anwar said, holding out the phone. "Mum wants to talk to you."

Maxxie pulled away from James. He readjusted his towel with a red blush on his face and accepted the phone.

"Hi Mrs Kharral…. Yeah, things are going really well… Thank you! Yes… I know… I agree… I'm really sorry about this… Thanks! I will… OK…"

Maxxie wandered off. Anwar stared after him.

"What?" Anwar said, his voice embarrassingly high pitched. "She's lovely to him!"

He mouthed several very descriptive expletives. James sniggered.

"Shut up, you," Anwar said, pointing crossly at James. "My mother thinks your boyfriend is a saint and it is _not _funny! It's unfair, that's what it is!"

James kept laughing.

Maxxie walked back into the room, still talking to Anwar's mother with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, definitely… Have you tried that new one? Yes… Oh, that's a shame… Anyway… Yeah, sure I'll give you back to Anwar…"

"No!" Anwar mouthed, waving his arms desperately. He hissed, "I've gone to the toilet! I'm not here!"

Maxxie rolled his eyes and handed Anwar the phone. "Like she won't wait for you to come out the bathroom."

Anwar glared at Maxxie. And Maxxie called himself Anwar's best friend…

"Hello," he said grudgingly.

The ranting started again. Anwar flopped back onto his bed and covered his eyes with his hand.

"Bye, Anwar!" Maxxie whispered.

He and James were changed and ready by the door. Both were still laughing as they left. Anwar gave them the finger, which only made them laugh harder. Traitors. Great, big, hairy, effing traitors.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Apparently once I got started I couldn't stop. Another drabble. Unedited. Beware. Feed me reviews. That is all.

* * *

Even after living together for weeks, Anwar was still a little uncomfortable around James, and he thought the feeling was mutual. They just didn't seem to have much in common, except for Maxxie, of course. When Maxxie was there, James and Anwar could joke and laugh together, and they even occasionally ganged up on Maxxie and teased him relentlessly. However, when Maxxie wasn't there, awkwardness ensued. Still, Maxxie had asked them to be at his opening night performance and they couldn't say no.

Maxxie had managed to obtain a small part in a musical. All he was doing was dancing in a few songs but he was content with that. The money wasn't great and, quite frankly, neither was the play, but at least it was some experience and hopefully that would lead to him getting bigger and better roles. Maxxie was talented and he would go far. Both James and Anwar agreed on that.

"This queue is stupidly long," Anwar complained.

James nodded.

"Oo," Anwar continued, looking over the shoulder of the tall man in front of him, "look, it is moving."

"Yup," James replied, rubbing the back of his head. "So you've got the tickets, yeah?"

"Nah, man, you have them," Anwar said, continuing to peer over the shoulder of the man in front.

They both froze and stared at each other.

"What!" Anwar said. "I thought you had them?"

James looked liked he'd swallowed a slug. "Why would I have them?" he demanded. "I gave them to you because they would get all creased in my pockets! You always have giant pockets."

Oh, yeah, Anwar _did_ recall that. Oh _crap_. He threw his arms in the air.

"You can't trust me with this kind of responsibility!" he cried. "I'm useless!"

"Apparently!" James sniped. He took a deep breath. "Maxxie is going to kill us."

"Uhuh."

"His _first_ performance.

"Yep."

"We're dead."

"Definitely."

James took another breath. "Look, maybe we can buy tickets on the door."

"Yeah, yeah," Anwar said, nodding. "Great plan. So, you've got money, right?"

"No. About fifty pence. You?"

"Why would I have money?!" Anwar demanded. "I went and got the shopping yesterday!"

That had been a disaster. Anwar hadn't checked half the use-by-dates (he had picked up all the stuff on sale) so they had been forced to consume most of it in one day, which had led to James turning rather green and Anwar puking most of it out down the toilet.

"So if you don't have money and I don't have money and we have no tickets," James said resignedly.

"Dead," Anwar repeated. "We are both _dead_."

"Look, maybe," James said, looking around shiftily. "Maybe we could sneak in."

Anwar looked at James in shock. He had always seemed like such a nice, law-abiding boy. Apart from the drugs. But he hadn't even done those very much. In fact, he had even told Maxxie off once for having too much spliff. Anwar had been fascinated by Maxxie's reaction by this, since Maxxie usually didn't like being told what to do. For James, however, it seemed he would do pretty much anything. That gave Anwar creepy little feelings. He didn't like it.

"I remember the seat numbers," James said, "so we can just find them and sit down. We won't be asked to move because no one else will have those seats so… what could go wrong? I mean, we did pay for the tickets so it is sort of legal."

It really, really wasn't, but it was better than facing Maxxie's disappointment. Anwar shrugged.

"Eh," Anwar said, "what the hell. Come on."

They slipped out of the queue and around the side of the building. It was an old, rubbish venue, and it didn't take long for them to find a good entry point. They scrambled up the side of the building and into an open window. They emerged in some toilets.

"Wow, that was easy," Anwar said.

They heard footsteps and, abruptly, James pushed Anwar into the nearest cubicle and locked the door.

"Hey! What the hell, man! Why–"

James clapped a hand over Anwar's mouth and he was left to mumble incoherently. James pinched him to try and make him stop and Anwar yelped. They waited as someone used the toilet next to them and then washed their hands. Finally, they heard the door opening again as the person presumably exited.

"This is a girl's toilet," James whispered. "Note the lack of urinals."

"Oh yeaah," Anwar said slowly. James had saved them then. He grinned and nodded. "Nice one, James."

They opened the door and came face to face with an old woman, who was looking at them with shock and disapproval.

"Youth these days!" she said. "Copulating in _toilets_."

"Eh?" Anwar said, in shock. "No, no, no, not me and James…"

James pinched Anwar. Anwar yelped again.

"So sorry ma'am… I just… couldn't keep my hands off him."

He grabbed Anwar's hand. Anwar looked down in shock. Then James pulled Anwar from the toilets and, as soon as they were out of the woman's sight, they leapt apart.

"Gross," Anwar said. "Can't believe she thought that we were… Eew."

"I'm not jumping for joy either," James said through gritted teeth, "but we've got more important things to do. Come on, let's find our seats."

They got to their seats just as the curtain rose and the play began. Anwar watched in amazement as he saw Maxxie come onto the stage and dance. Then Maxxie disappeared for a while and Anwar got bored. He closed his eyes. He'd open them in a few minutes when Maxxie was back on…

"OW!" he yelped.

James had pinched him again. Several people around them glared and tutted disapprovingly at the interruption. Anwar turned his glare on James.

"Pay attention," James ordered.

Anwar sulked.

The play was incredibly dull, but Anwar didn't dare tell Maxxie this afterwards. Maxxie had been good but he hadn't been in it very much. Still, Maxxie was elated and beamed when Anwar and James both complimented him. He accepted a long kiss from James and, when Anwar tried to look at _anything_ apart from that, he thought he spotted the old woman from the toilets staring with wide eyes. She glared at him. Anwar gave her a two fingered salute in response. Dirty old voyeur.

"I'm glad you like it," Maxxie said enthusiastically. "Thanks for coming!"

James and Anwar glanced at each other. In an unspoken agreement they decided that Maxxie would _never_ find out how close they had been to missing the performance. Only when they were alone did they verbalise their relief.

"We were so lucky," James said.

"Yup. Alive." Anwar said. He paused. "Though that play was _boring_." He winced and hoped James wouldn't be offended. "I mean, Maxxie was_ great_, but _seriously_…"

"Yeah, I know, it sucked," James said.

Anwar stared in disbelief.

James shifted awkwardly. "And you did _not _hear me say that."

Anwar nodded. Right.


	4. Chapter 4

In a pokey flat with one bedroom – well, in reality, more like one room and a bathroom – it was inevitable that someone walked in on something that he did not want to see. Certainly, Anwar had complained _loudly_ at some of the things he had walked in on. However, Maxxie didn't expect to walk in on Anwar being _quite_ so obvious with his masturbation.

"Whoa," Maxxie said, eyes widening. "That's practically doing in public, Anwar."

"Max!" Anwar yelped.

Maxxie laughed and shielded his eyes. He backed into the wall and groped around for the handle to the bathroom and pushed the door open. There was a rustling sound and then Maxxie heard a zip being done up. Anwar pushed past him and went into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

After that, Maxxie started to laugh again. He flopped down on his bed and pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a missed call and a text from James. It was queries about milk – nothing important – and it made Maxxie wonder how domestic his life had become.

These thoughts were forgotten when Anwar attempted to slip inconspicuously from the bathroom as if nothing had happened. This was ruined by his hunched over shoulders that made him look skulking and shady, and his darkening cheeks. It was difficult to tell there was a blush, but Maxxie knew it was there. He couldn't help it. Anwar just had to be teased.

"So, who was it made you so desperate this time, big boy?" he taunted. "Hopefully not a stalker and small time criminal like your last girlfriend, yeah?"

Sketch had been a sore subject for a long time but Maxxie now felt comfortable enough to mock his friend for his taste in women. He wasn't quite sure what Anwar had been thinking. She'd been all right, he supposed, apart from the fact that she had been completely and utterly _psychotic. _She'd almost ruined his chances with James and he couldn't forgive her for that. Ever.

"Shut up!" Anwar hissed.

"So this is where all the _hand cream_ has been going then?" Maxxie continued, a grin on his face.

"Hand cream – what hand cream? – we don't even _have _hand cream," Anwar babbled.

"Sure we do," Maxxie said seriously. "James and I use it as a cheap alternative to–"

"Don't say it!" Anwar interrupted, waving his finger at Maxxie. "Don't you dare say it."

"–massage oil," Maxxie finished, still grinning wildly. "I mean, after all that dancing my feet can get pretty sore. James is good for that."

"Shut up," Anwar repeated. "For fuck's sake," he groused. "You just _live _to gross me out."

Previously, Maxxie might have been offended by Anwar's apparent disgust of anything relating to gay sex, but he had got over it. Anwar was uncomfortable with it, of course, but he'd accepted it. Yeah, he'd accepted it, even if he did complain frequently and yell about how his innocent eyes were scarred for life.

"It's not my fault anyway," Anwar said. "I thought there would be loads of babes in London. I'm telling you, we're living in the wrong place! We should move."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Anwar," Maxxie said, "we can only just afford _this_ place. Let's not push it, all right? We'll have to stick with this, er, what did you call it yesterday? This dump? Yeah, we'll have to stick with this dump for now."

Anwar muttered something indistinguishable.

"But then, you don't really have to live with us," Maxxie said, teasing tone returning. "You've got a lovely bedroom waiting for you at home with your mother…"

Anwar grimaced. "Don't mention that woman to me. She's going to slaughter me when I come back. I can imagine it now." He shuddered theatrically.

Maxxie reached over and cuffed Anwar around the head. "She's great."

"To you," Anwar mumbled.

Maxine sighed and pushed himself to his feet. "Come on then. Get up. We need to get you a girl."

Anwar looked a little puzzled, but it didn't take him long to agree, with much enthusiasm to the plan.

"Only, you probably shouldn't help me this time," Anwar said as they left the flat. "Maybe James…"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"All right! Just kidding!" Anwar pumped his arms in the air. "Yeah, baby! Let's go."

Maxxie rolled his eyes but his mouth curled into a grin.

--

The summer holidays were over a few short weeks after exam results. Reluctantly, Anwar packed up what little belongings he had accumulated in London and went to the train station. Maxxie stood on the platform, with James's arm around his waist, and waved goodbye. Anwar shrugged in defeat before boarding the train that would eventually take him back to Bristol.

"Hey," James said, rubbing his spare hand up Maxxie's arm. "Are you all right?"

Maxxie leaned his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. Just, y'know, my best mate. But suppose he had to go eventually."

James kissed Maxxie on the forehead. "He said that he might be back."

Maxxie raised his eyebrows. "Are you joking? With a mother like his, he'll be lucky to leave the house again before he's twenty-five."

James snickered into Maxxie's hair and kissed him again.

"At least," James said, as they walked out of the train station, "we can now do whatever we want without Anwar walking in and screaming about his poor innocent eyes."

He managed to raise a smile out of Maxxie, who ducked his head to hide his grin.

"Come on," James said. "Admit it. It was funny."

"Yeah," Maxxie said, laughing. "I supposed it was. He deserved it."


End file.
